Along for the Ride (17 page)
‘Why don’t we go inside with the others and celebrate?’ Ryan tried to pull her arm. ‘So you told her secret. I’m sure she’ll get over it. Good news always has a way of keeping people happy. She probably had some grand plan as to how she was going to announce it. You know Kat.’
Megan jerked away from him. ‘You go, Ryan. I’ve done enough damage for one night.’
‘OK, so we’ll stay out here together and –’
‘Ryan,
go
.’ Her tone was harsh, but she didn’t try to soften it. She turned her back on him, facing the mountain range that wasn’t visible in the dark distance. ‘I don’t want you right now.’
go
.’ Her tone was harsh, but she didn’t try to soften it. She turned her back on him, facing the mountain range that wasn’t visible in the dark distance. ‘I don’t want you right now.’
For a moment, he didn’t speak. Finally, Megan saw him nod his head, from the corner of her eye. ‘I see.’
The sound of his footfall hit hard upon the deck. Megan bit her lip, rolled her eyes towards the expanse of the starry heavens in an act of self-deprecation before saying, ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want to be with anyone right now.’
There wasn’t an answer and when she turned, his name on her lips, she found that he’d gone inside and was taking a glass of wine from Sasha. Megan crossed her arms, her body shaking. She had really put her foot in it this time.
Her head ached, but, if Megan had any doubts about her run-of-the-mouth accident the evening before being just a dream, Kat’s cold stare directed at her cleared up the confusion. Her sister sat, wrapped in a blanket on the couch. The television played softly in the background. Since there was no reception, Megan knew she was watching one of the very few DVDs available to guests but thought better of asking what it was called.
Rays of late-morning sunlight streamed in from the picture window, but Megan was too hungover to notice the pretty scenery. She’d come inside the night before only after her mother’s insistence and continued to drink herself into a near stupor. Sadly, she didn’t even remember going to bed, only that she’d awakened in her clothes in the early hours to puke her drunken guts out. Ryan hadn’t been there.
‘Where is everyone?’ Megan asked, knowing instinctively that Kat wouldn’t answer her. By everyone, she really meant Ryan, though her father, Vincent and Sasha were missing as well.
It was her mother who answered. ‘The guys have gone fishing. They should be out of our hair all day.’
Great, Megan thought grumpily. In light of her queasy stomach and throbbing temples, she wasn’t too disappointed about being left behind.
‘And Sasha?’ Megan asked, just as her sister came out of the downstairs bathroom.
‘Sasha is bloated and crampy,’ Sasha answered, moaning dramatically as she picked a coffee mug off the counter and stumbled to the couch to sit by Kat. She tugged on her sister’s blanket until Kat let go and they both could snuggle. ‘Mommy, can you hand us the remote? It’s too quiet. I can’t hear what they are saying.’
‘Oh, poor things.’ Beatrice shook her head, instantly falling into the motherly role at Sasha’s childish endearment. Calling her ‘Mommy’ was a free pass to getting whatever they wanted. ‘It’s a good thing we’ve decided to spend the day in.’
Realising she still stood in the kitchen in front of the coffeepot on the bar, Megan grabbed a clean mug and finally poured herself a cup. As Beatrice handed Sasha the remote control only to lean over and tuck the two girls in, Megan had the strongest urge to join the two of them on the couch so she could get in on the motherly pampering. Knowing Kat would probably like nothing more than to throw her out the window if she tried, she instead chose to sit across from them on a chair.
‘Mommy, can you get the window, we’re getting glary spots,’ Sasha said. She gave Kat a mischievous smile, clearly aware of what she was doing. By the look on Beatrice’s amused face behind them as she went to draw the curtains, their mother wasn’t unaware herself.
‘Thanks, Mommy,’ Kat and Sasha sang out in unison. Now that the room was darker, it was easier to see the television screen. Couples danced in a line, dressed in period clothing that had to be over a hundred years old in design.
‘I thought the only movies they had were westerns and musicals,’ Megan said, hoping Kat would answer.
‘Kat brought this one,’ Sasha said.
‘What is it?’ Megan asked, taking a sip of her hot coffee only to flinch as it burnt her taste buds. She leant over to put the mug down on the coffee table. Their mother had disappeared into her bedroom.
‘I dunno,’ Sasha answered.
‘
Pride and Prejudice
,’ Kat said, her tone flat as she refused to look at Megan. ‘And why don’t you stop talking before you ruin this for me, too.’
Pride and Prejudice
,’ Kat said, her tone flat as she refused to look at Megan. ‘And why don’t you stop talking before you ruin this for me, too.’
Megan held her breath, stunned that Kat had said it. Out of all the sisters, Kat had always been the most tolerant, the most accepting towards her and the most forgiving. But her words hurt, cutting deeply at her core. If she didn’t have work and if she didn’t have all her sisters, she was left with nothing. Having Kat mad at her was a fate worse than being transferred to vice to play prostitute for the rest of her career. Megan dug her back into the chair, slouching. There was no way this day could get any worse.
‘Guess what I have,’ Beatrice called in excitement. ‘Since the guys are gone and we’re stuck here all alone without a car. I thought we’d do makeovers. Who’s first for the spa treatment?’
Megan tilted her head, seeing that her mother carried two large black bags. Spa treatment was her mother’s way of politely saying waxing legs, plucking eyebrows, filing nails and lying around with seaweed mud herbal gunk on their faces – or whatever Beatrice’s latest facial concoction was.
‘And I think Megan should go first.’ Beatrice winked at her.
Megan could barely suppress her groan at her mother’s proposed torture. She’d been wrong. The day was definitely looking to be a lot worse.
‘Great.’ Megan forced a smile, trying to hide her sarcasm. ‘Can’t wait to get started.’
‘I don’t understand why we can’t catch a fish as long as our outspread arms, like the guy in all the brochures,’ Vincent said, lifting the squirming fish he’d caught with one hand. It was only five inches long. The creature opened and closed its mouth, as if gasping for air. ‘OK, then, back you go, little guy.’
‘Don’t want to keep him?’ Douglas asked. ‘I think it would have made a fine hors d’oeuvre.’
‘Perfect, one tiny hors d’oeuvre for seven people.’ Ryan laughed. He’d been trying hard to enjoy himself, or at least to act like he was enjoying himself. Megan’s comment the night before stung. She’d said she didn’t want him, like he was some plaything for her to screw while she was on vacation with nothing better to do. He’d been foolish to think she really liked him.
‘It wasn’t tiny. The way I remember it, the fish was this big,’ Vincent said, holding his hands out to signify what equalled the size of a dolphin.
Ryan chuckled. ‘Don’t you worry, buddy, I seem to remember the same thing.’
‘Speaking of things not being what they appear,’ Douglas said.
Ryan’s smile faded. Did the man know the truth about his relationship, or lack there of, with Megan?
‘Don’t worry, son. Sasha explained everything to me,’ Douglas said.
Ryan looked at Vincent, who appeared as stunned as he felt. Clearing his throat, he tried to apologise. ‘I never meant for things to get so far out of hand. I mean –’
‘Think no more about it, boy. I’ve lived with women my whole life.’ Douglas chuckled. ‘And I can tell you this much. Find a hobby that takes you out of the house at least once a month, because those mood swings women get only become stranger with age and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to make it all better. When a woman gets her time of the month, that’s our sign to run as fast as we can – like today.’
Ryan sighed in relief, giving a slight smile. ‘Yeah, thanks Douglas, I’ll keep that in mind.’
‘You do that, son, you do that and I promise you that your marriage will be much happier for it.’
Chapter Nine
Ryan let loose a long breath. Under normal circumstances, just looking at Megan made his dick hard. But this wasn’t an ordinary circumstance and his dick wasn’t just hard, it was about to take off into orbit.
Megan slowly walked down the stairs, her eyes down as she watched each step. He felt like an oversexed teenager going to the prom, seeing the stunningly gorgeous vision who would be in his arms and hopefully into the back of his car or some cheesy hotel room by the end of the night.
Her hair was piled halfway up on her head, only to fall in long curls over her back. Hot-pink and brown tulle gripped Megan’s waist and chest so tight he couldn’t help but greedily lick his bottom lip at the way her cleavage jiggled with each downward step. There were no straps holding the bodice up and he imagined how easy it would be to dip his finger down the front to pull out a hard nipple. Sheer brown covered the bodice, stopping as it reached the ribbon tie belt and full skirt decorated with lace appliqués. High heels made her legs look extra long and delectable.
They’d been in Montana for seven days, the last three of which were spent estranged from the beauty before him. Zoe had arrived that morning and this outing was to celebrate her joining them. She had driven to the cabin in her own rental car, a small two-door that made strange clanking noises when put into gear.
Now, as he again looked at Megan’s tanned chest, he couldn’t seem to recall exactly why he’d been denying himself the pleasure of her body. So what if she was using him? His cock was pleading to be taken advantage of.
Her sisters were just as prettily done up – Sasha in a shiny chocolate-brown halter gown, Kat in a draping blue silk print kimono which looked fetching next to Vincent’s finely cut suit, and Zoe in an Ancient Greek patterned silk twill dress. Beatrice wore more of a black pantsuit with leopard-print accents, a wild contrast to Douglas’s tweed jacket. Since the best he could come up with was a pair of dark dress slacks and a lightweight black argyle V-neck sweater, he felt severely underdressed.
‘Oh, I want a guy who looks at me like that,’ Zoe said with a girly sigh.
Ryan blinked, realising she referred to the way he was staring at Megan like a love-crazed maniac. Perhaps that was because he
was
a love-crazed maniac when it came to his sweet confident detective. Thank the stars his slacks were loose and his boxer briefs were tight. With Megan in that dress, he was in for a very difficult night.
was
a love-crazed maniac when it came to his sweet confident detective. Thank the stars his slacks were loose and his boxer briefs were tight. With Megan in that dress, he was in for a very difficult night.
Hunting Season, though listed as a fine dining establishment in the local phonebook, was hardly what veteran New Yorkers would consider a five-star culinary experience. Like everything else in the state, there was a downhome country feel to the restaurant’s motif. Megan liked the warm comfortable ambience more than she did some of the places Zoe dragged her to in the city.
‘The wine list is actually pretty good,’ Zoe said, studying the wine book the host provided for her, after a long speech about how they were very lucky to get into the normally booked restaurant. Zoe merely smiled at the man, as it had been her cunning that got them the table in the first place. Apparently, she’d name-dropped a few high-profile chefs that she’d worked with in New York.
‘I think I’m going to go with one of their local microbrews,’ Megan said.
A fire burnt low along the far wall in the stone fireplace. Though full, everyone talked in hushed tones and the dining room wasn’t loud.
‘Go figure that,’ Sasha drawled. ‘Megan drinking beer. You are such a cop.’
‘Thanks for clearing that up. It would explain why I’m craving doughnuts to go with my beer.’ Megan rolled her eyes only to stop on Ryan. His dark gaze studied her intently. It was the same expression he wore when he’d seen her walk down the stairs, the same expression Zoe had called him on. Out of all his looks, she’d come to know this one best. He was horny and he was plotting ways to get her alone.
‘We should let Vincent order the wine,’ Zoe said.
‘Oh, easy,’ Sasha warned, grinning into her menu. ‘The last time we talked about this, Megan went into a diatribe about underage drinking.’
‘Well,’ Megan said, frowning. ‘It is illegal.’
‘Ah, but Vincent only drank underage in Europe.’ Sasha giggled, knowing full well she was trying to rile her sister. It was working, too. Megan felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.
‘To tell you the truth,’ Ryan said. ‘I never much understood what wines went with what. It all tastes like liquor to me.’
‘I like the warm fuzzies we get when drinking it,’ Zoe said.
‘Ah-ha!’ Kat pointed at her. ‘The real reason you became a chef!’
‘You caught me. I’m working my way up to a thankless middle-management job for the free cooking spirits.’
They all laughed. Megan’s eyes met Kat’s briefly, smiling. Her sister quickly turned away, her happy expression fading some. Megan felt a pang of guilt renew itself inside her. She felt horrible about telling Kat’s secret, but every time she tried to go near her sister, Kat would find a way to ignore her.
‘This conversation reminds me of that night Kat brought Vincent to meet us. She was so jealous of Megan,’ Zoe teased. ‘She told him that Megan was allergic to pasta just to get him to take her out on a group date instead of meeting Megan alone for dinner. She weaselled her way in.’
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